Ships in the Night
by The Carnivorous Muffin
Summary: Before he was Azrael and after he was Harry Potter, Death and an unnamed smuggler discuss dying, legacies, and more on a barren moon. Side fic of "October"


**Author's Note: Note that this is a side fic to "October" so if you haven't read a decent chunk of that you'll be wondering why the hell this is even fanfiction anyways.**

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Once, a long time ago, in a time and universe that had been rewritten, Death met a marooned and dying smuggler on the icy seas of Europa.

"Christ," the man said, his voice tinny through the small speaker beneath his helmet, at once looking terribly alien in his spacesuit and terribly human beneath that bright outer shell, "Don't tell me I'm hallucinating already."

Across from him sat a man who looked at once terribly human with his uncovered head and hands and terribly inhuman in the paleness of his skin, his dark unfamiliar clothing, his green eyes, and the very fact that in this icy and bitter alien world he looked as if he was on Earth, "Does it matter either way?"

Behind them, the unsalvageable wreckage of the man's smuggling vessel burned and sparked in the dark, so lucky to have been pulled into Europa's orbit from the great void of space and yet so unlucky in that it was far enough away that no shout would possibly reach far enough for any human help.

All those stolen goods, coveted treasures, now burning and burnt out, the entrance to his future tomb and nothing more.

The man laughed, shaking his head inside of his helmet, "Guess not, I'm dead either way."

Death smiled back at him, a soft thing that wasn't without kindness or sympathy, but wasn't filled with any true determination to change things. They stared out at Jupiter as well as the sister moons, close and overwhelming in the horizon. Out in the distance, further than it would be from Earth, the sun was setting.

"It's not a bad view to die to," the man noted, the light glinting off his helmet and onto Death's pale and ageless features.

"No, I suppose not," Death responded lightly, staring out into the view himself.

"Course, it might not be this view I'm dying to," the man continued, "I've only got so much oxygen, enough to watch my last sunset on this goddamned wasteland of a planet, but I could last a few hours longer than that and then what the hell will I be staring at?"

The man then returned his attention back to the Death, wearing the face of a pale boy just on the verge of becoming a man, and said, "Hell, I'm not even sure what you're supposed to be. I'd be hoping for a female angel, if you know what I mean. Are you one of those wizards? You know, like back on Earth before everybody left."

Death laughed, an ironic thing laced with memory and some bitterness along with the humor, "Not hardly, I'm just a man who rode into the desert on a horse with no name as it were."

The man didn't nod, couldn't really inside the suit, but he did stare and asked finally, "How would you choose to die, if you could? I figure this isn't the worst way to go, at least it's beautiful out here, in a desolate and depressing sort of way, but if you could choose…"

Death hesitated, stared out into the stars, and said, "I don't know."

"Come on, man, have a little imagination here."

"I think I'd choose this," Death said after a pause, and the stars reflected in his green eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, "In the great unknown wilderness, staring out into the alien stars and moons and seeing all the wonders of the world, not surrounded by friends and family but not alone either, in the presence of an indifferent stranger who is on his way to death as well."

"I wouldn't have chosen this," the man scoffed, "Wrecked out here, radio busted, ship busted, everything I've worked for nothing more than junk scarring the face of this goddamned moon. It's depressing is what it is, don't you think?"

"Would you rather your junk be scarring the face of Mars or Earth?"

"Well, when you put it like that, but it wouldn't be," the man said, "I was supposed to be remembered, if you know what I mean. Or at least I was supposed to go out with a bang. This though? Sailing in a downed ship through the cosmos only to get lucky enough to crash land on a planet? This isn't a way to go."

"Glory is fleeting," Death responded, "But obscurity is forever. I think, whether they realize it or not, all men end up dying where you are now. Alone, on a wasteland of a foreign world, with all their earthly possessions utterly meaningless."

"Alone, now don't say that," the man countered in a rather joking manner, "I've got you, haven't I?"

"I wasn't sure I counted," Death said with a cheeky grin of his own, which at least, was enough to make the man laugh.

"Well, I suppose we all meet our maker eventually, so why not here?" the man asked rhetorically, motioning weakly to their surroundings, "You know what? Screw it, this is as good a day or place as any. And where else was I going to die anyways? Some brothel on Mars? No, no, this isn't so bad, actually kind of nice… A little zen…"

The man's breathing grew weaker, the oxygen levels noticeably dipping below where they should, "Never had much zen in my life, you have zen man?"

Death smiled, that soft and worn thing that was now a touch desperate, "When I was younger, not really, I think I grew into though…"

"Good, that's good, I could have used some. Then maybe I wouldn't have ended up here. Or, I would have ended up here, but I would have known it beforehand. Like you said, you know, we all end up here one way or another…"

And then there was only Death, sitting on the surface of the icy sea of Europa, and the ruins of what had once been a small smuggler's vessel.

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 **Author's Note: Written for the 1800th review of "October" by Make the World Spin who asked for a snippet of Harry's life pre-October. Since most of what I wanted to say on the subject was seen in "After Apple Picking" I just thought to expand upon those scenes that were but are never discussed.**

 **Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**


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